Music is My Boyfriend
by x Rajah x
Summary: Oneshot. We never knew exactly how much Roger loved music. UNTIL NOW. Starring Angel and Roger, and pairings include CollinsAngel, RogerMimi, and... RogerMusic, of course. XD Borderline crack!fic.


Title: Music is My Boyfriend

Genre: Humor/Friendship

Summary: We never knew exactly how much Roger loved music. UNTIL NOW. The truth is revealed one day in the loft... featuring Angel and Roger. Borderline crackfic. Pairings include mentioned CollinsAngel, RogerMimi, and RogerMusic... XD.

Notes: This is totally random, and I must give some credit to my friend who

knows nothing about RENT, but inspired this fic. Kudos.

Also a note of thanks to Stephanie Pascal, because she's cool and she helped me

out a bit.

Another note, this was inspired also in part by Across the Universe, which I

just saw and loved. Yum. So yeah, it has some credit.

Yeah, the only other thing you should know about this is that it isn't meant to

be taken TOO seriously. ;)

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_Tap-ta-tap-a-tap-tap. Tap-tap-tap-a-tap-tap-tap!_ The drumsticks pounded rhythmically against the metal table, and Angel bobbed her head in time with the beat. The loft was otherwise quiet, except for the occasional chord of a guitar echoing emptily across the loft.

Roger sat on the opposite end of the table, eyes only upon his beloved Fender, and Angel stopped playing, amused.

"What's it saying?" She asked abruptly, and Roger, startled, looked ready to leap out of his fantasmic plaid pants. He jolted and looked at Angel as if he'd forgotten she was there.

"What?" He asked, when his heart rate had returned to normal.

Angel giggled, setting the drumsticks down. "You looked like you were in some sort of trance, Roger. I thought maybe you were in some freaky silent communication with your guitar... so I asked what it was saying."

Roger raised an eyebrow, staring blankly, but provided no answer.

Angel laughed at his lack of a response, then changed the subject. "How's the song coming, honey?"

A dry chuckle. "Well..." Roger played three chords slowly and decidedly, with a dramatic flourish. "That's... all I have. How does it sound?" He asked, hints of a smile gracing his face.

"Beautiful, darling. Simply brilliant." Angel gushed, then she put a finger to her chin, thinking. "It feels like it needs something though." Roger laughed then, his fingers running in random patterns along the framework of the instrument.

"I wonder what?" He asked sarcastically, his voice feigning a questioning air. "Let's see... maybe, length?"

"How about to not be the first three chords of Musetta's Waltz?" A voice asked and Roger scowled.

"Mark. No one asked you, so go back whatever grotesque activity you were

doing with your scarfy and camera, and leave me the hell alone!"

"A threesome with the camera and the scarf?" Angel scrunched up her nose at Roger's implications. "Mark, sweetie, I know you miss Maureen and all, but I think you need to find another outlet."

Mark stood in the doorway, frowning. He opened his mouth to snap a reply, but then shook his head. "You know what? Forget it. I was just leaving."

As Mark turned to walk away, Roger yelled. "Good riddance! We didn't need your scrawny ass in here anyway, mucking up the mojo! This is a gathering of musical intellect, and we don't need you in here spoiling the atmosphere!"

Mark laughed on his way down the steps. "Whatever. I'm filming for a while, have fun, you two."

"You bet we will!" Angel shouted.

"He'll be back.' Roger said softly. Then he laughed, strumming the strings of his Fender idly. "So Ang, where's Collins?"

"At some teaching conference." Angel shrugged. "I thought I'd hang with you for a bit, that is... if you don't mind my company."

"Of course not!" Roger said dismissively. "What's a song without a percussion section?"

"Songs don't always have percussion in them, Roger." Angel pointed out.

"Songs don't always have guitars either." He shot back, smiling. "But ours will, Angel. Ok? That's good enough for me."

"What will our song be about?"

Roger shrugged. "What would you write a song about, Ang?"

"Hm." Angel said, and then grinned. "Well, obviously I'd write a song about Collins, duh."

Roger twisted his mouth in concentration, flinging his fingers lazily across the guitar strings. _"Collins!"_ He sang randomly, causing Angel to burst into a fit of giggles. _"Full name: Thomas B... he's got a crib in New York, Mark and Roger make three!"_

"Roger..." Angel said, in disbelief.

_"Loves his Angel, from dusk 'til dawn... uh... spends his time with his friends Al Cohall and Mary Jo Juana!"_

"Roger...!" Angel repeated, gasping for air.

His shoulders sank listlessly and he hid a smile. "It's not working, is it?"

"I don't even need to answer that." Angel said clearly, laughing.

Roger sighed. "Alright. Then what will our song be about?"

"How about life and measuring it in the love you share?" Angel suggested.

"Already been done." Roger replied, looking sad.

"Awww." Angel said, snapping her fingers. Then she sank into thought again.

"I'm sorry, Roger. I can't think of anything else... if I really and truly wanted to write a good song, I'd write it about my boyfriend."

"That's not helpful." Roger stated.

Angel laid a gentle hand on Roger's shoulder. "Sure it is, honey. Wouldn't you?"

Roger smirked, snorting. "I don't think I have a _boyfriend_, actually, Angel."

"That's not what I meant, and you know it!" Angel protested indignantly.

"Wouldn't you write a song about the people and things you love and are passionate about?"

"Sure, I'll go with that." Roger said, eyes shining with amusement.

"Okay, so for me, the one thing I love the most is my Collins." Angel said gleefully, picking up her sticks and rising to her feet in excitement. "And second... I love my music."

"Okay." Roger said flatly.

"Seriously." Angel said, taking Roger's small response as doubt. "Music is in my soul, sweetie... it makes sense, you know? Surely you of all people would get it."

"Sure, I understand completely." Roger assured her. He flicked a couple dust particles off the end of his Fender. "I love music, too."

Angel rapped a steady beat onto the table, smiling. _"Music is my heart and passion...! It gives me drive and is always in fashion!"_

Roger listened, entertained by Angel's attempt.

_"Music will be with me, until the very end..."_ Angel cast a sly glance to Roger, and he predicted the coming silly lyric. _"If I liked girls, it would be my girlfriend!"_

Roger dropped his guitar from his lap, staring. "Now, wait just a minute there, Miss Dumott Schunard."

"Is there a problem?" Angel stopped drumming and sent him an inquisitive look.

"Yes... actually there is." Roger puffed out his chest. "Now, Angel, I love what you did, quite brilliant for an on-the-spot-improv, I must say."

"Why, thank you!" Angel squealed, hugging him.

"HOWEVER!" Roger continued, and Angel released him, confused.

"Yes?"

"Music is a boy, Angel... so how could it be your girlfriend?"

Angel laughed at the absurdity of what Roger was saying. "Roger... how can you be so sure that our beloved music is a boy?"

"I've known music since I was in the cradle." Roger said proudly. "Plus if the chicks get to claim Earth as a "she" and America as a "she", then the men need something, alright? It's called equality for both genders."

Angel looked dubious. "But honey, there is one universal truth, the most beautiful things in existence are the women, so all the world's beautiful inanimate objects and concepts are female."

"How is that fair?" Roger protested. "Angel, music is _so_ a dude."

"Okay..." Angel said, thinking. "And you love music all the same?"

"Of course."

"You're gay, Roger?"

Roger frowned. "Well, no."

"Then how can you love music?"

Roger pulled at his hair. "Ouch... bad question... make Roger's brain hurt."

"Aw, poor baby." Angel said in fake sympathy. "So, you're not gay, obviously, because of Mimi... but you're bi?"

"No!"

"But you love music? And music is a guy?"

"Yes."

Angel continued to look confused. "So you're bi, but only for music?"

Roger scowled. "It's complicated, Angel. I'm not bi, music is a guy... and I love it."

"This discussion is nearing the point of entering the 'crackhead' category." Angel muttered. "I don't understand you, Roger. No wonder Mimi says you're weird!"

"Well, it's hard to exp-... hey! Mimi said I'm weird?"

"No, honey." Angel laughed. "What were you saying?"

'Well... it's like you were saying, that if it were a girl, it'd be your girlfriend. Well, I love it, and if it were a guy... and it is... it'd be my boyfriend."

Angel paused, eyeing Roger. "Okay so... let me get this straight, Roger. Correct me if I'm wrong?"

Roger nodded.

"You're not gay or bi. Music is a guy." Angel said, beating the sticks again.

"Yes."

"And... music is your boyfriend?"

"Right!"

"Still makes no sense, Roger. No sense at all."

Roger sighed, exasperated, and stood up, leaving his guitar on the table.

"... what are you going to do?" Angel asked, almost frightened.

"Confess my _totally not gay_ love for my _boyfriend_: Music." Roger said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world being explained to a three year-old.

Angel sat back, befuddled.

Roger spun around, cocking an eyebrow and dancing oddly. He pointed at his abandoned guitar. _"My boyfriend..."_ he started, low and sultry, _"... is music!"_

He fluffed his hair and traced a line down his jaw. _"Yeah..."_ He murmured,

"_Music is my boyfriend."_

Angel could only stare-open mouthed as Roger expressed himself in song. Roger gestured with an open hand to the table and Angel tossed the guitar in his direction.

The throw was off by mere inches and it smacked Roger in the side, sending him sprawling dramatically to the floor. He lay in the grime, the guitar laying across his chest. With a small smile, he pressed with both hands against the instrument, attempting to lift it and pretending it weighed at least ten times the amount it really did.

_"He never takes the pressure off..."_ Roger said, laughing at Angel's reaction to the lyrics.

He flipped over, and the guitar rested gently along the floorboards. Roger sprang upward, a stroke of genius hitting him. He skipped to the bathroom, Angel watching through the open doorway.

_"Get up to go shower,"_ he sang, jumping into the shower, fully clothed. Angel giggled as the cuffs of his plaid pants grew wet from the puddles at the bottom.

_"I'm dancing for hours!"_ Roger exclaimed, dancing wildly and then slipping, hitting his head against the porcelain tub.

Angel winced. "You okay?"

Roger merely got up, chuckling. He clambered from the tub and somersaulted

through the doorway, giddy.

_"He knows the way I like it! He knows just how I want it!"_

Just as Angel was contemplating the idea that the blow to the head had done more damage than it appeared to have dealt, Roger was before her, dancing with his guitar and shaking his... _rear end._

_"He sees my hips swayin'!"_ Roger continued, _"The moment beats layin'..."_

"Oh my God." Angel whispered, tears streaming from her eyes in laughter.

_"It's inside my body!"_ Roger said, running his fingers over his heart.

Angel caught her breath, giggling_. "...my boyfriend's..."_ Roger sang. _"...a hottie!"_

And he turned in several circles loopily, cradling his guitar and playing a couple chords.

"Roger..." Angel managed to say. "I still don't understand... you don't like boys!"

_"You know that I don't need no silly boys."_ Roger answered, waving a finger. _"I just need my boyfriend." _

It was for certain now, Angel thought, Roger had some serious brain damage, whether inflicted by the bathtub or having been present since birth, she was not sure.

"Huh?"

_"I don't need no silly boys. I just need my boyfriend!"_ Roger repeated, slinging his guitar over his shoulder.

Angel stopped the continuous rhythm. "And your boyfriend... is music."

Roger nodded, then leaned back, singing soulfully, _"Don't you know..._ oh, _don't you know that...?"_

"Know what? That your boyfriend is music?"

_"My boyfriend is bang, the boom, the beat!"_ Roger pointed to Angel's unmoving drumsticks. Angel began to tap them slowly. _"He's beatin' down the door to get to me!"_

_Oh Lord Almighty._ Angel thought.

_"Yeah music is the shock, the shake, the shit!"_ Roger practically screamed, _"The needle in the groove, the grind, the grit!"_

Just then, Angel spotted something, and stopped drumming, staring perplexedly.

Roger however, shouted and played several intense chords. _"My... BOYYYYFRRRRRRRRIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEENNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNDDDD!!" _He screeched.

"Roger?" A small voice called. Roger broke out of his stupor.

There in the doorway, stood Mimi, eyes wide. "Roger...?" She asked, looking quite confused. "Roger... are you cheating on me?'

Roger stood there, silent, and Angel merely looked at Mimi, tears still streaming down her face.

"Angel's crying! What is it?" Mimi now looked startled. "You ARE cheating on me, aren't you?"

"Honey..." Angel tried.

"Let him speak for himself." Mimi stated, glaring at Roger. "You were saying, Roger?"

Roger looked down at his guitar, fingers strumming idly once more. He murmured something.

"I can't hear you." Mimi said flatly. "Tell me, Rog, what were you saying... about your..." She cringed. _"... boyfriend?"_

Another moment of silence.

Then, suddenly, Roger threw his head back, wailing. _"MYYYYY BOYYYYYYFFRRRRRRRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEENNNNNNNNNNNNNNDDDDDDDDDDDD...!"_

Angel stared. Mimi glared. Roger... plugged onward.

_" MY BOYFRIEND... nanananana! yo yo, yeah! BABY! Ooohhh... MY BOYFRIEND! Yeah, mhmhmhhm! Ooohhh yeah... uh huh..."_

"GET ON WITH IT!" Mimi said, frustrated.

_"... is music."_ He finished, and Angel burst into applause.

Mimi's eyebrows had shot into her hair. "... I don't want to know." And with that, she flounced into the kitchen to get herself some coffee.

Angel and Roger exchanged a look.

"That." Angel said slowly, "...has GOT to be your one song glory."

Roger laughed and collapsed onto the couch, panting for breath. "Shut up, Angel."

Angel giggled and pressed on. "You know, Roger... I know Music well. I can tell she's totally and madly in love with you too."

"That's reassuring..." Roger started, and then he sat up, frowning. "ANGEL! MUSIC IS A BOY!"

"Boy," Collins yelled, coming in. "MUSIC IS A GIRL, dammit!"

Roger looked half-angry, half-confused. "Why, might I ask, is that, Collins?"

"BECAUSE ANGEL SAID SO!" Collins said.

"Owned!" Mimi yelled in a sing-song voice.

Roger pouted. "Yeah, well... bow wizzers on you guys."

"And that." Angel got up and kissed Collins cheek, "…is why... _Collins is my __boyfriend!" _She sang.

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Okay, and… Roger said, "BOW WIZZERS"???!!!

I'm confused too.

ANYWAY!

The song is "Music is My Boyfriend" by Skye Sweetnam.

The fic is... wow.

Reviews are... amazing.

Flames are... only fun when tossed out windows from trash cans.

:) Please and thank you.


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